TW: Strong swearing, blood, injuries

Frost was curled into a ball on one of the spare beds, shaking softly. The scent of food cooking filled the room, and the sound of gentle footsteps echoed in his ears.

"They're both dead, aren't they?" Frost whispered, flinching as another wave of pain washed over him.

Henwy paused and sighed quietly, "Yeah."

Frost fell silent, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. Words he wanted to say caught in his throat, which felt like it had closed. He shifted and pulled the blanket over him, curling into a tighter ball as more pain hit him.

Henwy crossed the room and put a bowl on soup on the desk beside the bed Frost was lying on. Henwy sat on the bed across from him and started to eat his own bowl of soup, "There's more if you want any. You can just let me know."

"I can get it myself," Frost murmured, sitting up so he could grab the bowl.

"No, you can't," Henwy replied softly, "Trust me, I know what it's like. Kind of. I only lost one partner, and that hurt like hell, so I can't imagine what pain you're in."

"It's not that bad," Frost said, taking a bite of the soup, "I expected worse."

"I have a feeling that's not true," Henwy murmured.

"I'll be fine."

The two fell into an uncomfortable silence that way broken by the vwoop of an enderman teleport. The duo's heads snapped up as Sigils stumbled, grabbing onto the counter to try to break his fall as he fell, panting heavily. Long scratches and gouges covered his body, all bleeding golden blood. Sigils' right wing was almost completely shredded, leaving behind what looked like black bones. Three arrows were embedded into Sigils' right thigh, which was the cause of his stumble. Henwy nearly threw the bowl on the table and rushed over to the enderman, folding his wings around him and carefully helping him towards the bed, where the enderman practically flopped onto it, still struggling to breathe.

"What happened?" Henwy demanded as he rushed to gather healing supplies. Frost tried to stand but Henwy snapped around a jammed a finger at the admin, "No. You sit down."

Frost begrudgingly agreed and remained on the bed. Sigils winced and shifted, "Biffle- monsters- mutants- a lot of them- very bad."

Henwy paused for a moment, thinking, then continued, "Ah."

He stopped beside Sigils and dropped all of the healing supplies on the bed, then thrust a healing potion into Sigils' claws, "Drink. Now."

Sigils obeyed. Henwy started wrapping up Sigils' amputated wing, then a large gash on his shoulder, then turned his attention to Sigils' thigh, still pierced by arrows.

"This is going to suck, but you're going to have to stay calm, okay?" Henwy reassuringly, took Sigils' paw in one hand, then gently grabbed the shaft of an arrow with the other. Sigils nodded. Henwy shifted so one hand pushed carefully against Sigils' leg while the other grasped the arrow. Frost looked away as Henwy pulled and Sigils bit back a scream.

"Alright, that's one," Henwy said reassuringly. He looked up at Frost and beckoned him over.

"That really fucking hurts," Sigils said quietly, breathlessly.

Frost crouched beside Henwy, taking a few bandages and started wrapping the few wounds he could while Henwy removed the rest of the arrows and patched the wound.

"Any others?" Frost asked after scanning the enderman one last time.

Shakily, Sigils held up his arm and showed off the band, which was cracked and barely hanging together.

Henwy and Frost glanced at one another.

"I can't make another one," Frost whispered quietly, "Only- only Rafessor knew how."

"What happened to Raf?" Sigils croaked.

Henwy and Frost fell silent.

"What happened to Raf." Sigils demanded, sitting up. Henwy gently yet firmly pusheed him back down on the mattress. Sigils snarled, "And Flo? Where is he?"

"They're dead," Henwy replied simply.

Sigils went deadly silent and Frost flinched, turning away from the two. Frost wrapped his arms around himself while he looked out the window, "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," Sigils murmured, managing to get away with sitting up. Frost shrugged, "Not your fault."

Henwy reached out to pat Frost reassuringly, then noticed the blood covering his hands and decided against it. He sighed and stood up, turning to the sink to wash his hands, "It's just the three of us against the end of the world."

Sigils tapped the back of his head against the wall, sighing and closing his eyes, "Yep."

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Word Count: 762